


Meal Time

by Firefliesonalake



Series: Instance Verse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Clone Wars, F/M, Female!Obi-wan, Friendship, Humour, One-Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6360028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firefliesonalake/pseuds/Firefliesonalake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-wan merely wishes to eat her meal in peace. Anakin interrupts. Naturally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meal Time

 

 

 

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

* * *

 

**Mealtime**

It's nice to be home, even if only for a brief time. After a long and arduous mission, there is nothing quite like gazing upon the distant spires of the Jedi Temple over the Coruscant cityscape, and feeling a sense of peace that can only be elicited by the sight of her childhood dwelling.

Obi-wan shouldn't think this way. The concept of a home by its definition, is a sentimental notion. Home is merely another form of attachment, to a place rather than a person. But it is attachment all the same.

For all her reservations, she can't deny the allure in having some semblance of a permanent residence to return to.

After all it's everything she's ever known.

It's the place where she was raised and reared. Trained and initiated. The temple is the closest thing that she will ever come to calling a home.

Plus there is the added appeal of _solid food_. Even the most battle-hardened of Jedi covets a decent meal after a whole month of subsisting on nothing more than ration bars, and nutritional powdered sachets.

Attachment and gluttony. That's what she's come to. The consequences of eating nothing all day. Funny the type of thoughts a ravenous appetite can invoke.

To Obi-wan the small, green moasa berries, neatly adorning the top left hand corner of her tray seem like the most enticing thing in the galaxy right now.

And nothing will stand in her way. Nothing will prevent her from savouring their juicy, and tantalisingly sweet flavour.

The sound of someone clearing their throat impels her to glance up at the intruder.

She takes it back. _Anakin_ will stand in her way.

"Yes?" she asks.

Anakin stands at the opposite side of the trestle table, balancing his own tray (piled with a ridiculous amount of food) in his hands and looks down at her, amusement written plainly over his face.

"Am I interrupting something?" he teases.

Obi-wan makes a show of keeping her expression deadpan.

"Yes. It's called a meal," she answers curtly.

In typical Anakin fashion, he plops himself down on the bench across from her and places his tray on the table's surface without any invitation from Obi-wan.

She's not surprised by his actions, after all these years she's become completely used to Anakin's displays of uncouth behaviour, and lack of decent table manners. At least their only witnesses are their fellow Jedi, currently partaking in a late night meal within the temples mess hall, and not high-class delegates at a fancy reception.

"Meal times are meant to be shared Master," he tells her impishly.

Obi-wan purses her lips, and scrutinises her unexpected dinner companion.

"When one has received an invitation, and there is a mutual acceptance of _both_ parties, then yes meal times can be shared," she informs him.

Anakin grins. He picks up his eating utensils and digs into his greasy nerf steak, as if to contradict her.

Obi-wan watches him for a few more seconds before scooping up her vegetable stew with her spoon.

"I thought you were in the south-west tower decoding the transmitter codes we attained from that skirmish on Corellia with Master Plo Koon," she says, and raises the spoon to her lips.

Anakin swallows his mouthful of food. "I was, and now I am here," he says, his tone undeniably smug.

Obi-wan's only response is to fill her own mouth full of stew, so she's unable make a witty remark at his expense.

Anakin's blue eyes shine with mirth. There's a mischievous glint in his eye that she doesn't like.

Before she can ask him what he's up to, Anakin's mechanical hand shoots out, quick as lightening, and steals a handful of green moasa berries from her tray. He pops them into his mouth, and chews before she can protest.

Obi-wan frowns. "Anakin is there a reason why you are eating the food off my tray, and not your own?"

Once he's gobbled down _her_ moasa berries, he fixes her with an innocent look.

"Why I'm just helping you out Master, a woman as tiny as you could never fit all that food in you," Anakin says playfully.

Obi-wan taps the fingers of her unoccupied hand against surface of the table. "Is that so?"

Without warning, she strikes. Obi-wan reaches out towards Anakin's tray, scoops up a spoonful of mashed sema beets, places it into her mouth and swallows. It leaves a sour taste on her tongue, but she's had worse before. A Jedi should be grateful for any form of sustenance.

"Hey!" Anakin protests.

Obi-wan shrugs. "You always did complain whenever they served Sema beets," she says off-handily.

Anakin snorts. "And you always lectured me whenever I refused to eat them," he counters.

Obi-wan waves a hand dismissively. "All in the past."

Anakin gives her a fleeting, strange look, before he sighs and prods his food. While Anakin's mulling over his tray, Obi-wan decides to enjoy her remaining moasa berries, before Anakin can consume them.

When she looks up again, she finds Anakin is favouring her with an unabatedly rueful smile. Obi-wan shifts in her seat uneasily.

"What?" she asks.

"You still love those moasa berries," he says in wonderment.

"No I find their taste favourable that is all," she corrects. It was a pathetic Jedi Master indeed who formed an attachment to their food.

Anakin's lips tilt upwards into a smirk. "Well then..." he slowly inches his hand over the length of the table, "You won't mind if I share some of those moasa berries"

Obi-wan, knowing fully what he intends to do, immediately clamps her comparatively smaller hand over his large gloved one.

"Don't," she warns.

Anakin laughs and retracts his hand. She shakes her head good-naturedly. Meal times with her former padawan are always lively to say the least. Having Anakin around keeps things interesting.

If she's honest she doesn't mind the company-not that she would necessarily _tell_ Anakin that. By the stars, Anakin's ego is already large enough as it is. He doesn't need any more encouragement from her, or anyone else for that matter.

Maybe there is merit to what Anakin said. Perhaps, meal times are meant to be shared.

Glancing up from her bowl of stew, she notes Anakin devouring his nerf steak with a single-minded determination, and resists the temptation to lecture him on his lack of decorum.

Yes, now that she considers it, perhaps mealtimes are meant to be shared. On the rare occasion.

 


End file.
